


I Want To Go.

by chvotic



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Might be Out of Character, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter deserves better, Poor Peter Parker, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad, Sad Peter Parker, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Triggers, Worried Tony Stark, dad tony stark, major trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 09:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15638244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chvotic/pseuds/chvotic
Summary: Silence fell over them, Peter's fingers digging into his thighs as he blearily stared out the window. How could he convince Tony that there was nothing wrong when he was feeling like this? How could he act okay around everyone when every thought he had resulted in wanting to end his life?Why did people have to notice he was struggling?





	I Want To Go.

**Author's Note:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING** for suicidal thoughts and self harm, don't read if it affects you in any way <3
> 
> sorry if there's mistakes, i haven't edited

Peter was terrified, but then again, he wasn't.

Fear had been following him around the entire day, his jeans rubbing against the cuts on his thighs and causing irritation to spread. The tears seemed to always be present in his eyes, resulting to blame it on his tiredness as he made his way from class to class. Ned had asked him what was wrong, MJ had asked him what was wrong, and even Flash had the decency to back off for a bit.

It was as if everyone in the entire school knew he was a ticking time bomb, as if all of them knew his secret. It was as if they could see right through his jeans and see the countless fresh cuts on the flesh of his thighs, having been repeated so often and so frequently they never had time to completely heal. The actual cutting didn't hurt Peter anymore, though the aftermath and the thoughts afterwards always did.

But today, the thoughts were bad. He'd failed during his patrol the previous day, and he had been beating himself up about it ever since. So many thoughts ran through his mind as he made his way to his last class of the day, English, the tears threatening to make their way down his cheeks as he continued to bottle everything up.

When he entered the room, Ned was instantly waving him over to the seat beside him. Peter did as he was told, slinking across the room before sliding into his chair. Ned was watching him, worry clear in his eyes when Peter turned to meet them. He was on the edge, the one thought running through his mind and scaring him to death as he tried to tell his friend he was okay.

He wanted it to end.

He wanted it to be over.

He wanted his life to be over, because he had failed.

On Titan, he had said he didn't want to go. He hadn't wanted to go, there were still so many things he wanted to do and so many things he wanted to say.

But now, he wanted to go.

The thoughts terrified him. He had been carrying the burden of self harm around with him for almost a solid year, it having gotten to the point where his skin couldn't repair itself fast enough. This caused the irritation from the fabric of his pants, which annoyed him, but somehow made him want to do it more. Self harm had been reminding him that he was alive, that he could still feel. Nothing had been the same since he had turned to dust on Titan, and gradually, the irritation turned into nothing.

The feeling of being trapped, the numb feeling that had been surging through his veins the entire time he was stuck in the stone. He hadn't been alone, Peter Quill and the other guardians, as they had called themselves, had been there with him. Even Strange had been with him. But he couldn't feel anything, his skin felt numb, his brain felt numb. He would continuously pinch himself, hoping to feel pain to remind him that he was living. But the daunting thought that he was, in fact, dead, and he had left Aunt May and Tony and Ned behind. Even MJ. He still had no idea if they had faded away, too, along with the other half of the universe.

They didn't even remember what had happened. Tony had told him he'd been gone for just over two months, and they had managed to turn back time. He hadn't aged, his friends and classmates hadn't aged, it was as if Thanos had never came and destroyed the universe.

Carrying the thought that he had died was bad, but knowing he was the only one aside from the Avengers who remembered, he couldn't think of anything worse.

He wanted it to end.

He had started cutting to remind himself that he was free from Thanos, that he wasn't inside the stone and that he was living. The pain brought him closure, despite how much what he was doing would disappoint his Aunt, Tony, Ned, everyone. It hadn't mattered, because it made Peter feel sane, and his friends and family would never have to find out about it.

But now, when he cut, he felt nothing. His skin had gone numb, the feeling too close to the feeling he had in the stone. He wanted it to end.

He just wanted peace, was it that too much to ask?

But there was another half of him that didn't want to go. He wanted to help people, he didn't want to be selfish. But everything was so hard, he was beginning to think he could no longer handle what his life was giving him. He wanted to end it, he wanted to feel free. But he couldn't leave May, Tony and Ned behind with the burden of his death.

How could he even think of killing himself? How could he be so selfish?

But he wanted to be free.

He wanted to die, so the thoughts would end and he wouldn't have to suffer anymore. So the nightmares would end, and he would no longer have to worry about what people were thinking about him, and if he had disappointed Tony or not. He wouldn't have to think about any of it, because he would be dead.

"I'm fine, Ned." Peter whispered, despite the thoughts running through his head. The suicidal thoughts. "I just didn't get much sleep last night."

"You said that yesterday, Peter." Ned whispered right back, his hand coming to rest on Peter's shaking wrist. He hadn't even noticed how much he had been shaking until then, the thoughts of wanting to die still running through his mind endlessly. "There's something wrong. You don't have to talk to me, but at least talk to someone about it."

"I said I'm fine, Ned." 

_I'm not fine._

"I've just had a rough couple of days."

_Couple of months._

"I'll be okay tomorrow."

_I won't be here tomorrow._

Peter nearly choked on his spit when the sentence ran through his mind, his body beginning to shake even more when he realised exactly what his brain had been implying. Instead of letting the panic and confusion engulf him, he leant forwards on his desk and set his chin on his hand. Ned's hand left his wrist, and immediately Peter found himself wanting the contact to return.

He ignored the thoughts as he always did when Mr. Warren walked into the room, immediately talking and alerting the class of their upcoming assignments and essays. The information when through one ear and out the other, Peter finding his free hand pressing into his jean-clad thighs. He could feel the already irritated and trying to heal skin tearing, and he knew if he kept going he would draw blood. But the irritation faded, the pain faded, and all he felt was nothing.

He was numb. He was back in the stone. This must be another illusion of Thanos'.

Peter had thought he was alive when he came back, lying in the red dust of the planet called Titan. But he had failed to realise that who he was had already died.

All that was left was the pain.

And he wanted it to end.

He began to aimlessly draw on his page, his leg bouncing up and down underneath his desk as he tried to concentrate on something else. Without even realising, he found himself doodling his Spider-Man mask, trying not to let the tears pour over his eyelids as he continued to sketch his trademark. If anyone else were to see him doing this, they would think he was a nerd. Well, they already thought he was a nerd. A bigger nerd.

But he ignored it, moving on to doodle the outline of Tony's Iron Man helmet. For a momentary second, he felt okay again, staring down at his two drawings. Spider-Man and Iron Man. Peter and Tony.

Without realising, he had begun drawing on his wrist. It took a few seconds for his own actions to register in his mind, horror filling his body when he realised what he had been doing.

His pen had still been clicked into red after finishing the Iron Man helmet, a total of five neat lines covering the veins on Peter's upper wrist. Immediately he yanked his hoodie sleeve over his exposed wrist, eyes wide as he looked back up to Mr. Warren at the front of the classroom, hating the feeling like everyone had seen what he was doing, and everyone knew how he was feeling and what he wanted to do to himself.

He felt like they knew, and they would do nothing to stop him from ending his own life.

Flash would want his life to end.

This drew Peter's eyes around the room, no sign of relief filling him when no one had been looking at him. When he turned his head back to look at Flash, in the very back corner, the boy was falling asleep on his hand. Peter immediately turned back to the front, pen abandoned on his desk as he held his right, graffitied wrist with his left hand.

Before he knew it, the bell was ringing, and Peter was standing. Ned remained by his side as he slowly gathered his things, his whole body feeling empty as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. He jumped when Ned grabbed his hand, only just realising that he had been shaking once again. "Peter."

"I'm fine." Peter whispered, but not pulling his hand from Ned's. He knew people would be looking, and that they would make comments about them being gay or something, but Peter couldn't find it in himself to care. He was craving human contact, and even though he had May, she never seemed to be home anymore. She was far too busy with her work, earning money for the lifestyle that Peter lived. Maybe if he was gone, she wouldnt have to take so many extra shifts? If he was gone, maybe she could get a good night's rest without having to worry about where he was?

"Dude, you're shaking." Ned commented, concern furrowing at his eyebrows. "A lot."

"Ned.." Peter sighed, ignoring the faint sniggers from other students. "I just haven't been sleeping."

Ned stared at him for a few seconds, before dropping his hand. Instead, Ned's hand rested on his elbow as he began to guide him through the classroom and out of the door. Peter noticed the look Mr. Warren was giving him, the concerned look that teachers always had when there was even a moderately distressed student. Peter ignored his worried eyes, forcing his legs to take him away from the room and down the corridor.

Ned's hand didn't leave his elbow once, Peter finding himself battling to keep his tears away. He had to get home, he had to be away from all those eyes. He had to get it to end.

When Ned led him outside, Peter's mind didn't fully register the black Audi he had seen at first. It was only when he was standing in front of it when he realised that he had scheduled a lab visit with Tony that day, and that he was meant to be upgrading his suit. With all the thoughts running through his head that day, meeting up with Tony had flown straight out of his head. He had completely forgotten.

Instead of panicking like he wanted to do, he turned to Ned. "Thanks."

"Don't worry about it. Text me later, yeah?"

"Okay."

Ned's concerned look never left his face. "Alright. See you tomorrow."

_I won't be here tomorrow._

"Bye."

Peter turned away from his best friend, almost jumping when he met MJ's eyes from the other side of the carpark. She was watching him, eyebrows raised. He broke the eye contact as fast as he could, throwing open the door of Happy's car and sliding into the backseat. He set his backpack in the middle seat, buckling himself up before greeting the man.

"Hey, Happy." He almost whispered, cursing himself for acting so unlike himself. People weren't meant to know that something was wrong, and now Ned and Happy knew. Possibly MJ, too.

"Kid." The man replied, already pulling away from the sidewalk. "Everything alright? You're looking a little pale."

"I'm okay." 

_I'm not._

Silence fell over them, Peter's fingers digging into his thighs as he blearily stared out the window. How could he convince Tony that there was nothing wrong when he was feeling like this? How could he act okay around everyone when every thought he had resulted in wanting to end his life?

Why did people have to notice he was struggling?

"You're quiet today." Happy commented, Peter having expected the window between them to have been brought up a long time ago. That's when Peter realised it hadn't gone down because he hadn't been talking. "Something happen at school?"

"Tired." Peter replied, pressing harder into his thigh, wishing to feel the pain to remind him that he was living. "Patrolled late."

It wasn't entirely a lie, he had been patrolling fairly late. But the rest of the night had been consisting of him crying because he couldn't do what he had to do, which was, saving people. He had gotten someone killed, and that had been his breaking point.

He wanted to die, too.

"Yeah, Tony knows about that." Happy replied, a joking edge to his tone. "He'll be reminding you to sleep."

"He doesn't." Peter mumbled, his heart plummeting at the thought of the possibility that his mentor could be struggling, too. He didn't deserve that, he'd done so much for people. He'd done so much for Peter.

And what had Peter done for him? Nothing.

"Kid," Happy breathed, the car pulling to a stop at the stoplight. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

Good.

The rest of the car ride was silence, all the way to Tony's tower. 

Before he knew it, he was out of the car and making his way to the lab, his heart not racing like it used to when he saw non-other than Captain America walking down the halls. The super soldier had offered him a kind smile, though it faltered when Peter smiled weakly back. God, now Captain America knew something was wrong with him. Couldn't it all just end now? He wasn't even thinking about why Steve Rogers would even be walking the hall's of Tony Stark's tower and home, more so thinking about the fact that he wanted everything to end as a fast as possible, before too many people found out that there was something wrong.

How could he be so selfish?

Peter found himself feeling thankful that the Captain didn't comment on it, proceeding to walk past as Peter and Happy made their way to the labs. It didn't take long, but before he could comprehend it, he was inside of the lab with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner.

The two were arguing over something, not having noticed Peter nor Happy's arrival just yet. It took F.R.I.D.A.Y. alerting them that they had arrived for them to notice they were there, Peter immediately feeling like the two scientists could see right through him, as if they were reading a speech bubble of thoughts over his head.

So instead of crying and panicking like he so wished to do, he plastered a fake smile on his face and used all the energy he had left to act like his old self. Peter had found himself doing that around Tony for so long, ever since the snap reversal. As far as Tony knew, he was fine, and there was no lingering PTSD or depression. 

"Well, if isn't it the kid." His mentor and father figure's voice broke the eerie silence, his smile wavering when he seemed to take in the sight of Peter. The fake smile remained on Peter's lips, ignoring the fact that he could feel the warm sensation of blood spreading over his skin as he removed his fingers from his thigh. He could feel his heart rate picking up as the pain never came, the irritation from his jeans having faded somewhere between the ride to the tower and school.

"Hey." Peter replied, moving over to sit at his own desk Tony had installed for him. He let his mind float away as he worked on his web fluid, his thoughts straying away from the task at hand as they receded to the depressed part of his mind. Why did he have to feel like this? Why couldn't he be happy? Why couldn't he be like everyone else and not remember their own deaths?

He didn't know how long he was sitting there, wondering how he would do it. How he would end his life. 

He knew his hands were shaking, but he ignored it and continued to create his web fluid. Tony and Bruce bustled around him, the sounds of their voices and the clatters of metal distant as he sat there quietly. His fake smile had faded, the tears returning to his eyes as his mind ghosted over the options he had.

He could cut himself too much and he would lose to much blood.

He could use May's pills.

He could jump.

But did he really want to do that? Did he really want to leave everyone he loved with the burden of his death? Aunt May? Ned? Tony?

How could he do that to May? How could he let her lose her husband, and then him?

Peter knew he was already gone, he was already dead. He died that day on Titan, and whoever he had been there was gone. All that was left was a ghost of who he used to be, possessing his body and mind, convincing everyone around him that nothing had happened to him and that he was fine. That he wasn't severely depressed and traumatised. How could he do that to May? How could he leave her alone?

She would be better without him. She would be able to rest, she wouldn't have to work so much, she wouldn't have an extra mouth to feed. She would be okay without him, wouldn't she? Everyone would. 

He had to do it.

He had to leave.

He couldn't do it anymore.

No matter how much he wanted to leave Tony's tower, his body wouldn't let him. It was as if his limbs were on autopilot, his h ands moving and creating much more web fluid than he needed. His thighs stayed rooted to the chair, his feet firmly placed on the floor as he sat in his chair, the sounds of Tony's and Bruce's voices echoing around him. He took nothing in, his mind feeling far away from his body as the psychological pain increased inside of him. He felt nothing physically, and that's what had convinced him that he was already dead.

The old Peter would never come back.

"Underoos?"

Peter jumped at the voice close to his ears, almost falling out of his seat when he flinched. He flinched so hard, his beaker filled with unfinished web fluid spilled, the glass smashing and the contents spilling all over his desk. Peter stared at the mess with wide eyes, his brain being too slow to catch up on what he had just done. It was when the fluid began to drip onto his jeans when the reality of the situation kicked in, but Tony had been much faster than his brain.

Hands were underneath Peter's armpits, pulling him up from his chair as the half-sticky liquid began to spill more and more over the side of his desk, the fabric of his jeans becoming a darker blue from being soaked. Peter didn't really react as Bruce began to clean up the mess, Tony guiding Peter away with a carefree smile on his face. "Sorry about that, Pete, I didn't mean to scare you." Tony didn't know Peter could see it, but there was a hint of concern resting behind the humour.

Peter didn't answer, his eyes moving back to the mess he had created. Yet again, another thing he had fucked up.

No wonder Flash wanted him to kill himself.

No wonder he wanted to kill himself.

"I'm sorry." Peter whispered, not letting the tears that wished to pour down his cheeks surface. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I should have been paying more attention."

His voice was flat. His mind was floating, his muscles felt numb. He hated the feeling, he wanted it all to end.

Peter saw when the humour and carefree attitude drained from his mentor's face, worry immediately replacing those expressions. Peter immediately felt his chest clench, though the pain that should be there wasn't. He felt empty. 

"Peter?" Tony asked, his hands coming to rest on the sides of both Peter's shoulders. "Peter, hey, don't worry about it. It was an accident, it wasn't your fault."

"Everything's my fault." Peter whispered, hating the fact that he was pitying himself. He didn't deserve pity. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I should just go."

"No, Peter, there's no need for that." Tony replied, his eyes boring into Peter's. "Where's all this coming from, hey? I've notice you haven't been your usual self since you got here. Is there something else bothering you?"

"I'm fine, Mr. Stark." He wasn't fine. "I'm just tired."

"I know it's a lot more than that, kid." Tony's face became serious. "I know what happened last night. Karen let me know."

Peter didn't even feel violated, he just nodded. The liquid on his jeans was beginning to seep into his cuts, creating a feeling Peter didn't really know how to describe. It felt as if it were meant to be a stinging sensation, but instead, it just felt strange. He found himself wondering if his web fluid chemicals could kill him from getting into his cuts, which were for sure still bleeding. He wasn't healing like he was supposed to.

"Peter." Tony asked, Peter's eyes lazily moving up to meet his mentors. He felt lost. "You're shaking."

Peter looked down. His hands were trembling, he could now feel his shoulders quaking. Though, that's not what alarmed him. What alarmed him, was the tiny amount of blood that was seeping through his jeans. The tiny amount of red among the dark blue, taunting and reminding him of what he was doing, and going to do to himself. He looked back up, meeting Tony's eyes, hating the emotion he saw in them. Concern, fear. Loss.

It was almost as if Tony was already mourning him.

"T'ny." Peter whispered, his words shaky and slurred. "Tony."

"Yeah, kid, that's my name." Tony replied, his face softening and his voice becoming just a little shaky. He was worried. "Don't wear it out, yeah?" A nervous chuckle.

Peter's hand moved to his jeans, feeling the wetness of the fabric on his fingers. He pressed down, hoping to feel a sting. He felt nothing, even with the chemicals that were sure to be in his system by now. Whatever hope he had left faded away, and all that was left was sadness.

"I wanna go." Peter mumbled, pressing harder into his thigh. His brain didn't register what his mouth was saying, therefore he was confused as to why Tony's eyes widened slightly. But he had no time to think about it, because a gentle hand was setting down onto his left wrist. His left wrist, in fact, where his left hand's finger was digging into his already abused thigh. He froze, his muscles tensing dramatically as the hand pulled on his wrist, taking Peter's hand away from his thigh.

Tony's eyes did widen as the action took place, and immediately Peter knew Bruce was the one touching him.

Tony's eyes glanced down, provoking Peter to look down at his own leg. There was a little blood, but now it was more visible.

No.

"Peter." Tony's voice hardened more than the first time, the undertone of terror leaking into his voice. "Peter, are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?"

Peter felt the panic coming. He knew. They knew.

He had to go. He had to do it fast.

He had to get out.

He backed away from Tony, pulling his shoulders from his mentor's and Bruce's grip. He held the wrist where he had drawn the red lines, the tears beginning to pool in his eyelids as the two men watched him with wide eyes. "I wanna go." Peter repeated, not really sure if he were talking about his apartment or from the planet anymore. He needed to get out.

But he couldn't, because Tony was approaching him before he could react. His sense were all out of whack, and they w event even alerting him of what was going to happen anymore. They were just there, buzzing in the background like an annoying bug. It was almost as if his senses knew that whoever Peter had been, whoever Spider-Man had been, was already dead. An imposter was taking his place now, and Peter had to rid himself of that.

But before he could run, Tony had his hands on his shoulders again. He looked down, not wanting to meet his mentor's eyes as the need to slice his thighs became even more intense. One half of him was terrified, but the other half of him was not. One half of him couldn't wait to do it, but the other could. He was conflicted, he was alone, he was lost in his body. The abused body no longer felt like his, his brain no longer felt like his.

Nothing felt like the old Peter Parker anymore.

"-eter? Peter!" Tony's voice snapped him out of his daze, causing him to jump for a second time. "Petey, hey, why don't you look at me. Can you do that?"

Peter slowly met his mentor's eyes.

"Good, that's good." Tony mumbled, and Peter wasn't sure if it was to him or Tony himself. "Alright. Do you want to tell me if that is blood on your jeans?"

Peter found himself nodding. Tony paled. "Okay, okay, alright. Did somebody hurt you?"

Peter shook his head.

Tony looked confused.

"What do you mean, no one hurt you, Petey?" Tony asked, squeezing Peter's shoulders tighter. 

"I wanna go." Tony seemed confused and worried now, and Peter hated it. He needed to get out of there.

"Where do you want to go?" Tony asked, his voice taking on a gentle tone that Peter had never heard before. 

"Gone." Peter mumbled, eyes dropping from Tony's to look at his wet, and now slightly bloody, jeans. "I hurt me."

Tony's hands tensed around his shoulders. "Oh, no. Petey. Please don't tell me you mean-"

"I hurt me." Peter repeated, feeling the tears coming. He was losing. 

That half of him that didn't want to go was overpowering him, but the one that did was fighting back. He wanted to die. But with Tony here, he didn't know if he could do it anymore. He was scared, but then he felt numb. He was conflicted, but then he felt so sure that he knew killing himself was the right choice. He thought he could do it, he had known he could do it. But now, he couldn't.

"I'm sorry." Peter whispered, tears beginning to drip from his eyes before he could stop them. "I want... I want to..."

He couldn't say it. He couldn't tell Tony.

"Oh my god." He heard Tony whisper, Peter not meeting his eye. "Oh, my god. Peter."

Tony was mad. He had ruined them. Peter had ruined everything. 

"Tony, if he has wounds underneath his jeans, I'm not sure that the chemicals will do any good for his body." Bruce chimed in, his voice sounding horrified. He had heard the whole thing. "We should get him to the med-bay."

"Oh my god." Tony's voice was choked. "Peter, please don't tell me you've been hurting yourself."

"I hurt me." Peter mumbled, ignoring the way Tony's breath hitched. "I'm dead."

"Kid..." Tony breathed, sounding like he was about to pass out. "Peter, kid, Spider-Man..."

"Failure." Peter whispered, barely registering when someone gently grabbed his hand and begun leading him out of the lab. His legs were shaking as he walked, his eyes staring dead at the floor as the person pulled him by the hand, another around his shoulders. He wasn't sure who was who anymore, his tears blurring his vision as he was lead throughout the tower. He soon realised that he was limping, but he ignored that thought and continued to follow the two men. Before he knew it, they were inside of the med-bay and Peter was being ordered to lay down.

Peter did as he was told, his body feeling empty as he rolled his head to the side, immediately locking eyes with Tony. Tony was crying.

Had he done that?

He reached out, wanting to wipe away his mentor's tears. Why was Tony crying? Why was he crying for Peter? He didn't deserve it.

He deserved to die.

Before he could wipe his father figure's tears away, Tony's hand grabbed his. "Peter.."

"Mr. S-Stark..." Peter mumbled, unsure why he was saying Tony's name.

"How long have you been feeling like this?" Tony looked wrecked. Peter felt lost. He still felt empty.

"Thanos." Peter whispered, barely registering the fact that Tony was now wiping away his tears. Bruce was bustling around the room, Peter unsure of what he was doing as he kept his eyes locked on Tony. How had he become such a disappointment?

Why couldn't his suffering just end?

"Oh my god, Petey." Tony whispered, resorting to holding his hand. "Why didn't you tell me you were struggling?"

Peter didn't answer.

His tears subsided, and he found himself emotionless once again. He wanted to cut.

"Hey, Peter, is it alright if I can take your pants off? I just need to check out your wounds, if that is okay?" Bruce then asked, and Peter found himself nodding. He knew he didn't have a choice. It was over, his secret was out, he had lost all hope. He was numb. He was dead.

He barely registered his pants being pulled of off him, and he barely noticed the two gasps. He looked down at his thighs, barely flinching or blinking at the sight. Some of his cuts had healed, but a lot of them hadn't. His body couldn't recover, he couldn't recover. He would never recover from Thanos, he would never be okay again. He was broken. No matter what Tony or Bruce did, he would always want to end it.

Would he?

He stared down at his legs, reaching forward absentmindedly to wipe at the blood. He found himself pressing into the skin without realising, a hitch of breath sounding from beside him as a gentle hand rested on his wrist. "Peter, hey, don't do that." Bruce's voice was soft, stern and worried all in one, and Peter found himself helplessly looking up at the Avenger. His eyes were sad, his cheeks flushed red as if he had just ran a marathon.

"Underoos." Peter leant back, tearing his eyes away from the sight of his thighs to look at his mentor. Tony laid a hand on his cheek, wiping away the drying tears as Peter stated at him without emotion. He felt nothing, the sadness fleeting as his mind began to float away. "Keep looking at me, okay, kid?"

"M'kay." Peter whispered, his voice barely audible. Tony didn't move his hand, Peter watching each tear as it made it's way down the billionaire's cheeks. Peter caused his mentor's pain, this was all his fault. He needed to do it.

"Listen to me, alright?" Tony asked, his thumb still gently stroking Peter's cheek. Peter nodded once, his mind still wondering how he would do it. "I've never told you this, or anyone really, but I love you, kid."

Peter blinked. His chest began to close in.

"You've become a son to me, y'know." Peter blinked again, his chest becoming tighter. He could feel Bruce gently cleaning out his cuts, the pain never coming. He was numb to it. "Pepper thinks of you as her son, too."

Peter didn't know what to think.

"And of course, your Aunt May. She loves you, we all love you." Tony continued, his tone so unlike his usual one. "No one wants you to go."

Peter found himself leaning into Tony's touch, his chest becoming tighter and tighter. He ignored it, focusing on Tony as he heard the words he would never hear in his life. Tony had never said he loved him, and Peter had been sure he didn't. Peter had thought of Tony as a father for a long time, but he had never known that the man had thought of him as a son. It was too good to be true, his mind must be playing tricks on him. Was he already dead? Had he already done it?

"Hey, Petey, come back to me." Peter zoned back in, having no idea how long he had zoned himself out for. He was breathing hard, his breath coming out short as he tried his best to keep his thoughts steady. "There we go, that's good. Just focus on my voice, yeah?"

"You're one of the bravest kids I've met, y'know?" Tony continued speaking, his tone becoming even softer, if that was even possible. Peter felt his chest closing in even more. He was panicking. But why? "You're only fifteen and you've already saved so many people. I've never met someone so selfless. You are, and will, be better than I have ever been."

Peter wasn't selfless, he was selfish. He could never be better than Tony.

"No one wants you gone, Underoos." Tony whispered this time, tears slipping out of the older man's eyes. "I don't want you gone. I love you, kid, and I really hope you believe that."

Peter was breathing hard, his eyebrows furrowing as all the feelings came surging into him at once. The sadness, the helplessness, the numbness, the fear all meshed into one, creating one big mess of despair as the tears began to burn in his eyes. He never once moved his eyes away from Tony's face, even when they blurred with tears. Peter wanted to leave, he wanted to stop suffering. 

Everyone would be better without him. May would be, Ned would be, even fucking Flash would be. Everyone would do better without him. Even Tony.

"I know what you're thinking, kid." Tony continued, snapping him out of yet again another daze. "It's not true. You're loved, people want you here. I want you here. You're the reason I'm still alive."

Peter broke. The tears began to flow, the helplessness taking over as he reached out for Tony, the man instantly wrapping him up in a hug. Bruce paused his treatment, Peter feeling the hands move away from his self-loathe as his head banged against Tony's shoulder. He was having a panic attack, he already knew it. But that was the last thing on his mind as Tony rubbed his back, letting Peter cry it all out. 

He was done.

He barely noticed when Bruce continued to work on his legs, and before he knew it, they were bandaged up. He could feel the soft fabric, though it did nothing of him as he let the numbness take over. He still wanted it, he still wanted peace, but maybe he could find it there. On Earth. With his family.

Tony didn't let go of him, his hand moving to card his hand through his hair instead of rubbing his back. Peter leaned into his touch, still sobbing his eyes out without hesitation as he let the depression work itself through his system. He was tired, he was stressed, he was hurting. He just wanted it all to end.

But somewhere inside of his failing heart, was a sense of relief. A sense of relief that someone knew, that someone knew he was struggling. That Tony knew. Tony knew, and Tony didn't want him to die. 

"I'm s-s-sorry." Peter stammered, a sob following soon after. 

He just felt so hollow inside.

"Don't apologise for this, kid. This isn't on you." Tony replied, squeezing him tighter in his hold. "Everything's gonna be alright. You'll get through this. Y'know why? Because you're Peter Parker, and you're one of the strongest people I've ever met."

"T-that isn't true."

"Peter, you know it's true. I wouldn't say it if it wasn't." 

Peter continued to cry, he continued to drown in his self-hatred. But soon, he found himself getting tired, and the stress and pain was wearing away. His eyes were drooping, his hand moving to fist Tony's shirt as he slowly drifted in and out of consciousness. He couldn't sleep, his nightmares would haunt him. Everything he had done wrong in his life was there and ready, just waiting for him to slip out of the real world and into the one of his traumas. 

He would re-live dying, he would re-live being crushed by the concrete. He would re-live almost drowning, he would re-live watching his Uncle Ben die. He would see Tony getting stabbed by Thanos over, and over, and over again without being able to help. He would watch everyone he loved die.

Why couldn't it end?

"Go to sleep." Tony whispered, snapping him out of his thoughts for a third time. "I'll be right here when you wake up."

Would he?

"P-promise?" Peter mumbled, not even batting an eye about how childish he was acting.

"I promise." Tony whispered back, continuing to run his hand through Peter's hair. "I would never leave you. Not again."

Nothing was going to be okay.

Peter would never be okay.

But for the first time in a year, he felt safe. He felt safe in his father figure's arms, he felt a tiny bit content. He wasn't happy, he was far from happy, but he felt safer than he had been ever since he got on that alien spaceship. 

He would never be okay again, but he had Tony. He had Tony, he had May, he had Ned. Even MJ.

Peter didn't know if he would ever recover from this.

But as he drifted off to sleep, he let those thoughts away as he pressed his face into Tony's shoulder, the tears still running down his cheeks as he cried himself into unconsciousness. Even if the nightmares haunted him, Tony would be there. He hoped he would be there. He had promised he would be there.

But when he did fall asleep, his nightmares didn't haunt him.

He felt at peace.

He was spared of the empty feeling for just a moment.

And when he woke up, Tony was there.

Just like he promised.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry...
> 
> idk why i wrote this pain but please comment some feedback if you like:)


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